“And you like that…? The randomness of the place, I mean?”
“That’s precisely why I like it. If you remember, I lived a very contained life, looking after my grandfather in his secret chamber hidden within Follygrin’s. It took its toll: a burden only lifted after my grandfather’s death. I’m free here, unburdened by a duty that ultimately robbed my grandfather of life — a choice he made willingly, of course.”
“It just seems so remote,” Lucy adds. “Beautiful but silent. Does the loneliness not get to you?”
“The internal and external worlds of The Royisin Heights are vastly different, Lucy. Out there is a barren, unforgiving landscape, drawing few witches and wizards. However, inside each of these mounds of earth is a blank canvas, allowing the creation of any world imaginable: the very freedom I’ve long desired.”
“And the passageways?” Conrad asks. “Are they part of your creation?”
“Of course. A blank canvas is absent of all forms, Conrad. The passageways offer me a kaleidoscope vision of my surroundings, pivoting my perspective in a multitude of ways. No two days offer the same vision — the lack of windows offering a formlessness connection with the outside world.
The passageway behind me leads to a stained-glass floor, looking down on the lively underground of The Royisin Heights, where those who seek comfort in company gather.”
“Is that where we’ll find Neve?” I ask.
“It’s where she’ll appear when she’s unable to cope with the silence. Wherever Neve is, she’s a guest in another dwelling. Of course, The Royisin Heights covers a vast distance, meaning she may appear in the underground section today, tomorrow or, perhaps, when more time has passed.”
“But you think she’s going to appear sooner rather than later?”
Sianna gestures to the Follygrin on the table next to my teacup — her family’s invention to offer insight into a moving, mercurial world. “Her brother, Odin, is hiding between Drandok and here,” she adds, “aware that Neve has sleeping soldiers on her tail.”
“I thought he was using the Invisilis charm to cover his tracks?” Conrad states, moving his hands closer to the flickering fire.
“He is, but when a certain group of people change their daily rhythms, it suggests they’ve been called upon. Your journey here is a change in your rhythm, for example, normally gliding through the sky over The Society Sphere to more gentle realms like The Shallows. Arriving here has caused a mild commotion below.”
Sianna glances at the concrete floor, signalling a moving universe beneath. I’m keen to inspect the stained-glass floor in the passageway behind her, but the offer isn’t forthcoming so I rest in the leather chair, listening to the soft lilt of her voice as the sky rushes past overhead: a sky drawing our feathered friends’ attention, thankful for the rest.
“Odin feels his chances are better out in the wilderness, drawing on favours or fear to find shelter. It’s where the likes of Alice Aradel hide out until something draws them back to The Society Sphere — desperation or desire forcing them out of their hiding place.”
“Who’s offering Odin shelter?” Lucy asks, putting her teacup on the floor.
“Alice’s old crew … one of whom is Odin’s cousin, Eschen Blin. The group has been wary of Odin since his training as a Domitus. I imagine he hasn’t told them about his quick exit from Drandok, no longer able to ride the Silverbacks into other realms.
Odin’s arrogance is his greatest weakness, meaning he will use Alice Aradel’s old mob to gain access to the underground world of The Royisin Heights, where hiding in plain sight is relatively easy.”
“Disfigurement charms?” I suggest, remembering Alice Aradel’s deformed face when we bumped into her in Poridian Parlour. She didn’t look particularly pleased to see us but, then again, neither did Joseph Flint — the eccentric wizard returning to his routine of talking to himself in The Chattering Tap.
“Indeed, Guppy. Disfigurement charms can disguise any witch or wizard. With the right contacts, you can blend in with the crowd, stretching out the days before fate closes in on you.”
“But you’ve got the stained-glass floor,” Lucy adds, glancing in the direction of the passageway, “meaning you’ll know when Alice Aradel’s old mob arrive — probably with someone else in tow.”
“Odin,” Conrad adds, standing to signal the time for action. “Can we see the stained-glass floor?”
“You can,” Sianna replies, “but first you’ll need to activate your Quivvens.”
“Why?”
“Because, as I said, my home offers a kaleidoscope of visions, meaning there are no barriers to what lies beyond. The stained-glass floor will give you a window into underground life here; your Quivven will illuminate all other visions, formed in glass fragments buried in the walls.”
Conrad’s already got his Quivven out, burying the small, brass artefact into his neck. The Quivven kicks in when your penchant’s powers fade — any journey beyond The Society Sphere requiring the protective and illuminate powers of a Quivven. Once buried under my heart, the artefact glows the colour of my penchant stone: a soft, topaz-blue glimmering near my heart.
Lucy places her Quivven in her forearm and we’re ready to inspect the underground part of The Royisin Heights, safely cooped up in Sianna Follygrin’s cosy home: a young woman who arrived here to escape a life of perpetual duty. They say once a Society soldier always a Society soldier, and I wonder if Sianna’s going to find the peace she hopes for out here.
The passageway we step into remains in darkness initially, our Quivvens the only thing illuminating the space. I can see the faint outline of the stained-glass floor but nothing moving beneath it. The fragments of glass buried in the walls glimmer as I turn to inspect them, understanding what Sianna meant by the need for our Quivvens.
This particular artefact has two benefits: protection and image mapping. The protection is symbolised by the glowing colours beneath our skin, the image mapping happening when we close our eyes.
I discovered the Quivven’s second magical
